


The Spider's Soldier

by horsevet9



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:14:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22995301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horsevet9/pseuds/horsevet9
Summary: John is captured by Jim Moriarty to be made into his own personal soldier. This process includes a shiny new arm, a superhuman strength serum, and some good old fashioned brainwashing. All the while, Sherlock is searching for his captured flatmate.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Walking Into the Spider's Web

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first fanfic, so please be nice in the comment section. But if you have any comments or suggestions feel free to let me know down below.
> 
> Anyway, part of the inspiration for this fanfic came from the story of Marvel's Bucky Barnes and the rest, of course, is from the BBC show Sherlock.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sherlock stepped out into the pool, holding up John’s gun as he scanned the room for Moriarty. The pool was dimly lit and smelled strongly of chlorine. John slowly walked out of a changing room dressed in a thick parka.

“Glad you could join the party Sherlock,” John said plainly, searching his flatmate’s face for any kind of understanding as to what he had just walked himself into. 

Sherlock furrowed his brows in confusion. “John?”

“I hope you brought my parting gift because this is the last time we will be seeing each other.” John swallowed slowly, the corners of his mouth falling as he pulled back the front of the parka to expose the explosives strapped to his chest.

Sherlock’s eyes widened in understanding for a fraction of a second before becoming glaring slits. “Moriarty!” he growled. “Show yourself. I know you’re in here.” He scanned the room again before his eyes fell on the one and only James Moriarty. John’s gun was quickly aimed at Moriarty’s smug face.

The consulting criminal grinned. “Hello Sherlock. Is that a British Army L9A1 you’re carrying or are you just pleased to see me?”

“Quite the opposite.” Sherlock tightened his grip on the Browning as Moriarty casually wandered over to John, draping an arm over his shoulder, making John stiffen. 

The mad man frowned, pretending to look hurt. “That’s not very nice, Sherly. You just might hurt my feelings.” 

“Don’t call me Sherly!” growled Sherlock. The spider at the center of the web smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Bit touchy are we?”

“Enough with the games Moriarty. What is it that you want?”

“I already have what I want Sherlock. I only brought you here to rub it in and see the look of surprise on your face.” Jim grinned as he wrapped both his arms around John’s middle and rested his chin on one of his shoulders. The detective’s eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. He understood now. It was John that Moriarty had. But something was unclear to him about this whole situation. What would Moriarty want with John? Sure, he was the sociopath’s companion and only friend, but he would be of no use to Moriarty. He would never do as he was told, only struggle to get back to Sherlock. What would he want with a man like that?

“Why John? Why do you want him?”

Jim giggled. “You mean you don’t know? The amazing Sherlock Holmes doesn’t even know the worth of his own flatmate?” Jim broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Just tell me, damn it!” The consulting detective snarled as he took a step forward, pulling back the hammer on John’s gun.

“Now now Sherlock. No need to get a temper. You wouldn't want to shoot John now would you?” Jim cooed as he held John closer to himself. John stood stock still, looking at his friend with worried eyes. The Irish man smiled as Sherlock slowly lowered his gun. “That’s what I thought,” he smirked. “The reason why I want John is because he is the perfect soldier. Strong, loyal, smart, and a crack shot. Not as good as Moran, mind you, but after an upgrade, he will be.”

Sherlock frowned, “What do you mean an upgrade?” 

The criminal mastermind grinned, “That is for me to know and for you to find out.” Moriarty slowly started to walk backward, bringing John with him. “Come along John. We have places to be.”

Sherlock quickly raised his gun to point it at the shark-like man holding his John captive, a look of anguish spreading across his face. “I’ll find you John! No matter where he takes you!”

John nodded slightly before falling into the shadows with Moriarty. He had confidence that the great detective would find him before Moriarty did whatever terrible things he had planned for him.

“No you won’t!” Moriarty said in a sing-song voice, leaving a now friendless detective alone in the darkness.

Sherlock yelled, pacing as he pulled at his hair. After a few minutes had passed he pulled out his phone. He hated to admit it, but he would need his brother’s help to find where that killer would take John.

**********

John struggled against the restraints cementing him to the cold metal of an operating table, screaming bloody murder into the gag that kept him from speaking. He could see people gowned in medical-grade scrubs scurrying around out of the corners of his eyes. They were preparing for something big and he feared what that something was because he knew it was going to be for him. 

John stilled when his nemesis entered the room, glaring daggers at the psychopath that took him away from Sherlock; away from his everything. Moriarty smiled a sickly sweet smile down at John. “There there Johnny boy. No need to fret. I’m just fixing you up is all.” He circled the table, running a finger along the side as he went. “We’ll get rid of that pesky left arm that makes you tremor; makes you weak.” Moriarty stopped on John’s left side to caress the arm that was to be lopped off. John started struggling again while cursing at his captor as best he could through the gag. He’d do anything to get this mad man away from him. “Now now John. There is no need to behave in such a rude manner, especially to the man that is going to make you new and improved.”

Moriarty glided over to John’s head, holding it between his hands. “Do you know what the hardest part of this upgrade will be John? Hmm, do you? Of course you don’t, so let me tell you.” Moriarty’s eyes changed from their soft, playful tone to jet black slits full of fury and hatred. “It will be getting those memories of Sherlock and your past life out of that puny little head of yours.” John’s eyes widened in terror at what was being told to him. He was to be brainwashed and mutilated so that he could become Moriarty’s puppet. John struggled with renewed strength, thrashing on the table with all his might.

The king of crime smirked and turned to walk away. Before exiting the room he turned to the surgeon that was to perform John’s procedure. “Do as we discussed. And contact me when he is ready.” The surgeon nodded as Moriarty left the room.

All the medical staff in the room physically relaxed when he left, just glad that they weren’t the center of his attention. After a brief moment of stillness, everyone exploded into action. Medical carts and monitors were brought over to the table the sandy-haired man was on. When the surgical techs couldn’t prep John because of all his thrashing they gave him the sedative early to make their jobs easier. After he was out they busied themselves with putting different types of monitors all over his body, a tube down his throat to keep him breathing properly during the operation, and drawing the lines for the surgeon to cut on.

John’s upgrade was to include the following: replace his left arm with a mechanical one, administer a serum that will give him superhuman strength and reflexes, erase specific past memories, and then replace those memories with new ones.

And that is exactly what happened.

**********

Sherlock slammed his hands down on Mycroft’s table. “What do you mean you can’t find him?! You’re the British government for god’s sake! You must be able to find at least  _ something _ !” The eldest Holmes brother sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry Sherlock, but I simply can’t find him. Moriarty has a vast amount of resources, so he is able to hide, even from me.”

“Well maybe you’re not trying hard enough.” growled the youngest Holmes. Mycroft looked up at Sherlock with a worried and saddened look on his face.

“Sherlock, I’m sorry John was taken, but I promise you I am doing my best to find him. And I will tell you immediately if any sign of him is found. Ok?”

“Fine” Sherlock huffed, turning to leave.

“Please look after yourself brother.” With a roll of his eyes the consulting detective left the room.

**********

Jim sighed as someone knocked on the door to his office. Shutting the lid to his laptop he looked up at the door. “Come in.” In walked a tall, gruff looking man with multiple scars covering his face and body. Jim’s eyes lit up as he pushed himself away from his desk and ran over to Sebastian Moran to give him a bear hug. “Sebby!” Sebastian smiled as he hugged his lover.

“Hello Jim.” Moran sat down in one of the lounge chairs placed in the office, pulling Jim down with him. The consulting criminal grinned up at the soldier, wrapping his arms around his neck. 

“How was the hunting trip, my love?”

“It was… long, but fun. I brought back the man’s head like you asked. I put it in your collection room.” Jim smiled as he laid his head down on Moran’s chest.

“Thanks Tiger, you’re the best.” Moriarty chuckled happily. “I started a little project while you were away.”

Sebastian looked down at Jim, rubbing his back in slow, methodical circles. “Did you now? And what might this project be?”

The criminal grinned. “I captured John Watson to turn him into my errand boy.” The sniper raised an eyebrow.

“And why did you do that?”

“For us of course! I keep having to send you away to do jobs for me, but you are always away for so long and I miss you. So now that I have John I can send him to go do the jobs for you so that we can be together more. And of course, I’d still let you play with whoever I have John bring in. I know better than to leave you idle for very long.”

Sebastian sighed softly and gave a faint smile. “Thank you, Jim. But you do know that by taking John you have just made yourself Sherlock’s greatest enemy, which is not necessarily a good thing because he might bring his brother into this.”

Moriarty rolled his eyes. “Of course I know that, but I'm not worried. The Iceman has already tried poking around for John and myself, but hasn't found anything.”

“Just be careful, ok?”

Jim pecked Moran on the cheek. “Always.” 

**********

John awoke to the throbbing of his skull and the sound of whispers around him. He groaned, slowly opening his eyes as to let them adjust to the brightly lit room. Medical personnel started to check on John now that he was up. One doctor stood in front of John as the others worked around him. “John? How are you feeling?”

John grunted at the doctor, glaring at him. ”Like my head has been run over by a lorry.” The doctor nodded. 

“To be expected. You’ve maxed out on all the pain killers we can give you, so you’ll just have to bear with it.” The doctor wrote something down on his notepad before looking up again. “Now John, can you tell me who it is you work for?”

Opening his eyes fully, John looked around the room for the first time. It was an off-white lab setup with expensive-looking equipment. At the center of this lab was John, clamped down to an upright metal chair with monitors on either side of him. John looked down at himself, his eyes falling on his metal arm. It was hard to see from his point of view, but on his new arm was the logo of a spider at the center of a web; the mark that claimed him as Moriarty’s. The soldier looked back at the doctor.

“I work for James Moriarty. No… I’m…” John squinted his eyes, thinking hard before a memory bubbled to the surface. “I’m… owned by him. He saved me, and so I owe him my life.”

The doctor grinned. “Good. Very good. And your function?”

John sat up as straight as he could, trying to look like the tough soldier that he was. “I do whatever he asks of me.”

The doctor nodded before turning to one of the assistants. “Go and get Moriarty. He’s ready.”


	2. Playing With Spiders

Lestrade nudged the consulting detective with the tip of his boot. “Get up Sherlock. I know John has been missing for a few months now, but you can’t just lay about forever. I have cases for you.”

Sherlock rolled over. “He’s been gone 6 months, 4 days, 10 hours, and 48 minutes to be precise. And I don’t want your cases. I’m busy.”

The inspector sighed heavily as he stepped over Sherlock’s body to grab the needle off the coffee table in front of the sofa, inspecting it. “I can see that, but I need your help. And I won’t take no for an answer, for both your benefit and my own.” Gregson held out his hand for Sherlock to take. “Come on now. I’ll give you a lift to the station.”

**********

Back at the station, Greg led Sherlock into his office where he proceeded to slump down into the chair in front of Greg’s desk like a small disgruntled child. Lestrade sighed and sat down across from him, folding his hands on the desk. “Look, Sherlock, I know you want John back, we all do, but sitting around and doing nothing won’t help the situation. Why don’t you look through some of the unsolved cases we have to help get your mind off the situation? You never know, one of the cases may help you find John or Moriarty’s whereabouts.” Sherlock looked up, glaring at the detective, but begrudgingly took one of the folders in the unsolved stack on Greg’s desk.

Skimming the folder’s contents, he sighed and tossed the folder to the detective. “The fisherman was killed by his cousin, the butcher.” He picked up the next folder and examined it. Another sigh, this time more exacerbated. “It was obviously the husband.”

This went on for a few more minutes, all the while Greg tried to take as many notes as possible regarding the now solved cases. He didn’t dare ask questions; he was just happy to see Sherlock working again and to have the cases solved.

As Sherlock reached for a folder that was quite a bit larger than the others Lestrade stated, “Ah, yes, that case is quite troubling. Or cases, I should say. There have been a string of murders and missing person reports around the city, all within the past three months. We suspect a serial killer-” The consulting detective holds up a hand to silence Greg as he reads through the file with a raised brow.

“I have to go,” he says plainly as he gets up, and turns to leave, file still in hand.

The detective stands. “Sherlock, where are you going?! Is this about the case?” However, he receives no response as the younger Holmes exits the office.

**********

“Oh Johnny boy! How’s the torture coming along?!” Calls Jim as he waltzes into the dimly-lit room. John looks up from the man he is waterboarding to make eye contact with Moriarty.

“He’s not much of a talker boss, but when he does he insists that he can get your money given some more time,” John says as he continues to hold the struggling man’s head underwater. Jim rolls his eyes and sighs, waving his hand, signaling John to let him go.

“It’s always the same answer with you lot. George, darling, where the hell is my money?!” George coughs and sputters as he collapses to the ground, trying to catch his breath. The thin, sleazy looking man holds up a hand, trying to scoot away from Jim as he looms over him.

“I-I can get it!”

Jim narrows his eyes. “Not fast enough,” he growls before turning and walking a few paces away. “John, kill him.” He smirks as he hears the man scrambling to get up and pleading for his life behind him. John quickly pulls the revolver from his hip holster, aims, and shoots. Within seconds, blood starts to pool around George’s now limp body. Moriarty sighs, “Such a shame. I had hoped this particular pawn would last a bit longer than he did.” The Irish man glances down at his feet and notices that George’s blood has made its way down to his feet. He growls, eyes narrowing as he storms over to his living pawn, grabbing a fistful of his shirt collar. Watson winces as the slightly taller man snarls in his face, ”How _dare_ you be so inconsiderate!! You made a fucking mess and now it’s all over my shoes! Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of these shoes?!”

John replies softly as his eyes fall to Jim’s shoes, “No…” Only to receive a hard smack across his right cheek.

“NO WHAT?!”

Stiffening, he replies louder this time, “No, sir.”

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Jim replies as he lets go of the soldier’s now crumpled shirt. “Clean this shit up, then report to Moran. I want the two of you to bring me George’s husband. Maybe we can get the money from him and salvage something from this mess you’ve made.” The sandy-haired man nodded as Jim turns and leaves the room, leaving him with George’s cooling corpse.

**********

Sherlock storms into Mycroft’s office, pushing past the man at the door. “What the hell is this?” He waves the file that he stole from Greg in his older brother’s face. Mycroft sighs and nods to the man at the door, letting him know that he’s ok with the intrusion.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean dear brother,” he states plainly as he rests his chin on his folded hands.

Sherlock scowls. “You and I both know these surveillance photos are too detailed to be from the Yard’s CCTV feed. You had a part in this, didn’t you?”

“It is possible that I provided some information to the Yard to have them look into.”

The younger Holmes rolls his eyes. “No. You specifically gave it to your lackey, Greg so that he’d find a way to give it to me. Why do you want me to solve _this_ case? Is it too difficult for you brother?”

Mycroft sighs, sitting back in his chair. “You have been idle for too long dear brother. You dwell too much on what you couldn’t do when instead you should be acting in the present. I believe this case will help you refocus your efforts in finding John. I suspect Moriarty is somehow behind these killings and abductions, but I want you to look into it and confirm my suspicions.”

“And what makes you think solving these murders will help me find Moriarty? I have been searching for him and John for months!” Sherlock jabs.

“Sherlock, in order to play with spiders you must first find their web.”


End file.
